


Correspondence

by Cleo2010



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dating, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleo2010/pseuds/Cleo2010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's been spirited away on a case for Mycroft. Part of the deal was that he and John could communicate via letter until the case was completed. Maybe the cliche is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps something is growing on the feet in the fridge. </p><p>Read their letters month by month.</p><p>Written after series one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. JUNE

**1st June 2011**

Sherlock,

Mycroft just left, he told me what’s going on. Well, I say he told me what’s going on, he told me you were ‘undertaking some minor government errands’ which means you’re probably single-handedly bringing down some international crime syndicate. 

Sounds fun, wish I was with you. 

He also said that I could write to you once a week and he’d make sure they’d find you so I thought I’d start now, it’s either write or watch a Come Dine With Me repeat and it’s that god awful woman with the crystals again. I was going to suggest trying that new curry house down the road tonight but I guess that’ll have to wait. Since Mycroft suggested weekly letters I assume you’ll be gone a while.

Keep safe Sherlock.

John

P.S. Did you really leave in such a hurry that you couldn’t clean away the mildew-y feet in the fridge? 

 

~~~*~~~

**5th June 2011**

John,

Could you turn the feet over and take photographs or perhaps a few sketches? I’ll need to see them in your next correspondence. Things are going well though I could have done with your marksmanship on one occasion as I was feeling rather murderous towards an obnoxious teenager in a boat. Nothing to do with the case but not even her mother would have missed her. 

Be warned that Mycroft will be reading our correspondence. Did that cream work oh dear brother? Must be rather distracting to have an itch there. 

SH 

P.S. Don’t eat at that curry house. I have it on good authority that you’d be better off eating the feet.

 

~~~*~~~

**8th June 2011**

Sherlock,

So you’re somewhere near a sea or river? Well, that’s no help at all really and I doubt Mycroft would let you tip me off to where you were. 

The photographs are enclosed and you owe me a pint, it was truly horrendous. Lestrade told me about the case, if you’re going to make up a reason why there’s a body in your fridge then saying he was already dead when you fished him out of the Thames is an odd one. Odd enough to be true? Can I help? 

Mrs Hudson sends her best, she’s become rather enamoured with the new postman, caught them making eyes at each other over her Woman’s Weekly subscription. Bumped into Molly the other day, she misses you and says she’ll keep the six toes guy on ice for as long as she can. Also, could you please be more careful about getting a rise out of Mycroft, I’m the one who has to look him in the eye. He says you’re keeping well, eating fairly regularly but I don’t know if that’s lip service. I don’t expect you to be any more honest. 

It’s quiet here without you.

John.

 

~~~*~~~

**14th June 2011 ******

John,

Excuse my handwriting; I fell on my wrist two days ago. Before you fret there’s nothing broken, it’s just a sprain. I’m making good headway on the case; I anticipate it will wrap up sooner than most expected but that’s why they sent me. You would have enjoyed the past week, there was one particular moment which you would have found quite amusing involving a [REDACTED] and some [REDACTED] in a [REDACTED] but I can say little more than that. 

You’ll be pleased to read that I am currently eating a lasagne as I write. Vile but edible. I have some tiramisu for dessert too, smells quite lovely. Would I lie to you? Well, yes. But not this time. See, I’ve smudged some sauce on the paper. Lick it; it’ll probably taste better after transit. 

Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can, you’ll miss it when I return. Can you turn the feet again on the 17th? The case will solve itself. 

SH

 

~~~*~~~

**18th June 2011**

Sherlock,

I’m bored. Nothing is happening. I’ve spent half an hour making up stuff that Mycroft redacted from your letter. Did it involve a ski jumper, some al dente spaghetti in a lift? Or perhaps a masseuse and some gerbils in a jail cell? I’m so bored. I’ve started talking to the skull like it’s you. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I miss you.  
Solve the case, come home. 

Oh, and I caught the postman leaving Mrs Hudson’s flat this morning. You do not want to know what they got up to. Hell, once you see the marks on him you’ll know every detail. I’ll never be late with the rent. Never. 

Pictures of feet enclosed, you owe me another pint. Also, I see your wrist has improved but you shouldn’t over do it, keep it warm too. 

John.

P.S Were you ill after that lasagne? Your letter was growing.

 

~~~*~~~

**22nd June 2011**

Dear John,

[REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED]

With that said I shall continue. You should have received my gift this morning, I hope you enjoyed the experience and it relieved your boredom. I had asked Mycroft if you could join me but I’ll be done soon. I don’t know why I would take your missing me the wrong way; you’re one of the few people whose company I can actually tolerate for any length of time. Of course tolerance has its limits but you do better than most.

Tell Lestrade the body was in the Channel, not the Thames. 

With regards, Sherlock

P.S. Yes I was ill. We’ll be skipping Angelo’s for a while.

 

~~~*~~~

**22nd June 2011**

ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! 

Thank you.

 

~~~*~~~

**23rd June 2011**

Dear Sherlock,

You may well receive this at the same time as my first letter. I got yours this morning, Mycroft redacted what you wrote to him but considering how tight his jaw was I figure it had the required effect. Don’t forget to tell me what you wrote one day. 

Thank you for my ‘gift’ as you so elegantly put it. I’ve got a black eye, sore fists and a handful of bruises elsewhere but it was fantastic fun. You should have seen me, I knocked him clean off his motorcycle, I took him by surprise from the fire escape. I guess you had planned on me following him but the fight made up for the chase. Think I made a mess of his bike though; you might get billed for that. I think that was one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has gotten me. I’d return the favour but you’re far too adept at getting into those situations naturally. I have include a bag of wine gums for you, only the red and black ones, I don’t know if you can get them where you are.

Lestrade says thank you and he arrested the social worker. 

It’s still too quiet but I’m less bored. 

Best, John

 

~~~*~~~

**28th June 2011**

Dear John,

I’m glad to hear that my gift was appreciated. Apparently you’re ‘a fucking handful for a short bloke’ and I’m paying for his dental work as well as the bike. You also appeared to have ‘flown like a fucking ninja’, next time I’ll hire someone to film it too, make you a souvenir. 

I’ve encountered some unexpected obstacles which has delayed the conclusion of the case. I was hoping to be home soon. Thank you for the wine gums, I have eaten far too many and now look five months pregnant thanks to the guar gum. Do you miss me now? 

I must go, the [REDACTED].

Yours, Sherlock

~~~*~~~  
 **REDACTIONS FOR JUNE:**

As a bit of an easter egg the original version allowed you to highlight so you could see the redacted bits. As AO3 doesn't do this (it was complicated enough trying to figure out how to do it in word, hello black highlighter pen) I shall post the redactions in note bits like this.

From Sherlock to John 14th June...

_You would have enjoyed the past week, there was one particular moment which you would have found quite amusing involving a flamingo and some illegal substance in a brothel but I can say little more than that._

 

From Sherlock to John 22nd June (Sherlock telling off Mycroft for reading his letters)

_Redact another word Mycroft and I’ll make sure that Mummy knows exactly what you did to Humphrey. Fatty._ Humphrey was their cat. Mycroft was fat. You can work out Humphrey's fate ;) 

 

From Sherlock to John 28th June (Mycroft protecting John from worrying with this one)

_I must go, the train is leaving and I need to post this before they catch up to me._

 

That's it for this one!


	2. JULY

**4th July 2011**

To my flatulent friend,

I’ve enclosed a strip of Rennies this time with some more sweets. I put some polos in there too this time. I’ve also got you a standing appointment at the dentists for the first of the month for your return which I hope won’t be too long. You’ve been gone just over a month now but it feels longer. I think the flat is growing, it feels huge and far too tidy. Maybe because I keep cleaning when I’m bored.

I think I need to make some changes. I feel like I’m drifting from day to day wai. Sarah offered to set me up with one of her friends a couple of weeks ago, maybe I should accept. Can’t be any duller than what I’m doing now which is listening to Radio Two (not writing to you which I enjoy, it’s not often the British Government works as your own personal postman). 

On the subject of postmen, Mrs Hudson and Steve are still happening. I’ve invested in some ear plugs though I think ear defenders would be more appropriate. She seems really happy though, he’s always bringing her flowers, like a bloody florists downstairs. She sends her best as usual.

Look after yourself, not just from mortal danger but eat, sleep and keep warm/cool depending on where you are on the planet. I’ve got some contacts in Southern Afghanistan if you need them but I hope to God you’re not there. Please tell me you’re not there. Mycroft, let him, it still leave 194-ish countries left. He could be in Slough for all I know.

Take care, John

 

~~~*~~~ 

11/07

I’m not in Afghanistan.  
In transit. Hot lead. 

 

~~~*~~~

**15th July 2011**

Dear Sherlock,

Thanks. Was clever of you to write on the inside of the envelope. I can only hope that the hot lead ends whatever you’re doing. I keep checking the papers but I figure Mycroft is keeping things under wraps. I have a couple of theories but I won’t share them here. You’d only tell me how wrong I am and I’m not prepared to give you that much pleasure. My knowledge of world affairs has improved significantly though; think I’m ready for a job with the U.N.

Here’s a reason to finish up and smite the enemies you’ve undoubtedly amassed. There have been a series of killings in London you might be interested in. Was at the pub with Lestrade and Anderson last night, they were telling me about the third person found in a hotel room garrotted in the bath, tarred and feathered. No obvious link between the victims, different occupations, ages, races, married, unmarried, all have kids though. It’s the kind of thing that would make you jump about and get all giddy. 

Do you miss London yet? I wonder whether you’re out in the countryside somewhere trying to blend in, I can’t quite fathom it, there’s only so much tweed can do.

Almost forgot, I went on a date with Sarah’s friend, Anoushka something hyphenated. I won’t be seeing her again. I think when she started naming all for her ponies from age four I decided there was no future for us. In fact I considered climbing out of the window at the mention of her childhood gymkhana trophies. What wouldn’t I have done for a fist fight to distract me? That wasn’t a hint. I don’t think it was anyway.

I guess life could be worse. I still talk to the skull though, probably should be worried but as long as it doesn’t talk back I think I’m ok. I took some final pictures of the feet before I let Molly dispose of them. I hope the other picture makes you laugh, got it developed at that infuriating machine at Boots today. It was more than worth it. Think he’ll need to see a doctor, hopefully not me. 

John

 

~~~*~~~

**19th July 2011**

John,

I got close. Mycroft will blank out everything else I write, it’s not worth the ink. ~~I’m~~

I don’t really feel like writing. 

Tell Lestrade he’s looking for a team of two, 18-25, university educated or didn’t finish their degrees in something humanities based and one of their fathers would have access to tar. Send me pictures, reports anything and everything, I’ll solve it from here. 

Sherlock

P.S. Thank you for the picture of Anderson, you must tell me who the young girl was to make his eyes bulge in pain like that, I shall send her flowers. 

P.P.S. You should have known better. Anoushka? Fool.

 

~~~*~~~

**26th July 2011**

Dear Sherlock,

I could smell the cigarettes in the paper so I put some nicotine patches in with this, don’t use them all at once. You’ll crack this, you’ll get one step ahead, you always do. 

Anoushka is a perfectly nice name and doesn’t necessarily imply she comes from a certain background. And yeah, I should have known better but that’s only because she and Sarah ride together. There were other clues. 

I really thought you might be back soon. I’m more disappointed than I thought I would be. Kept thinking that maybe you’d be in the flat when I came home. Silly really. The weather has been scorching the past week, you wouldn’t believe how many grown men injure themselves in paddling pools. Still, it’s meant that I now know Mrs Hudson’s Steve is incredibly hairy and has four grandchildren. 

Going to meet up with Greg Lestrade again tonight, some five-a-side in the park then the pub. He’s trying to get the case together for you but the Met is being a bit funny about the fact that Police documents might be heading outside of the country. [REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED]. Doing my best though. 

Oh, Molly said six toes guy started to smell a bit ‘off’ so he’s been cremated. Sorry. She’s got a homeless heart attack for you instead. That girl is something special you know, she knows how to make you happy. 

John

P.S. Don’t know who the girl was but apparently Anderson wanted her to do something that involved her being on her knees. Must have worked on Sally.

 

~~~*~~~

**31st July 2011**

Dear John,

I see from your most recent letter that your intermittent tremor has returned. Please let me know if my efforts to correct this have been successful and you’ve solved the tar and feather case. Mycroft should have paid you a visit with all the relevant information. How is your limp? You said you were playing five-a-side, how pedestrian, were you impaired at all? Mycroft tells me you are fine but I’d rather hear that from you for obvious reasons. I didn’t think about how my prolonged absence might affect you.

I’m staying in one of the more comfortable places I’ve being able to wrangle though I may have moved on by the time you read this. It has a toaster and I’ve eaten half a loaf with strawberry jam already. I make no apologies for the stickiness of this letter; I’m far too content to care. My spirits are high again, I’ve discovered something they are doing that’s very clever and made this case infinitely more complex. If you’re planning on taking a holiday please tell me where you’re going first, there are some places you’d do better to avoid. Also, I’d like to arrange letter drop off and collection, I find these letters are useful for morale; I do look forward to them even if your life has become decidedly more banal without me. Plus, I need more sweets. 

Something interesting happened that I can share. Remember the time we were chasing that mime through that farmers market and I knocked over that organic vegetable stand? I did just the same thing but this time with [REDACTED] and even in a different language the scolding sounds remarkably similar. Yes, he tried to punch me too but I knew better this time and ducked. I still smell slightly funny though. 

With these new developments I don’t know how long this is going to take, keep the corpse cold for me. 

Stickily, Sherlock

~~~*~~~

**REDACTIONS FOR JULY**

The redacted bits...

From John to Sherlock on the 26th July regarding sending the files on the Tar and Feather Case

_Mycroft doesn’t want you distracted either, he’s not helping._

 

From Sherlock to John on the 31st July

_I did just the same thing but this time with shark meat and even in a different language the scolding sounds remarkably similar._ Mycroft redacted the shark meat so John couldn't narrow down potential countries. You guys can though ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The redacted bits...
> 
> From John to Sherlock on the 26th July regarding sending the files on the Tar and Feather Case 
> 
> _Mycroft doesn’t want you distracted either, he’s not helping._
> 
>    
> From Sherlock to John on the 31st July
> 
> _I did just the same thing but this time with shark meat and even in a different language the scolding sounds remarkably similar._ Mycroft redacted the shark meat so John couldn't narrow down potential countries. You guys can though ;)


	3. AUGUST

**5th August 2011**

Dear Sherlock,

You were right (I heard you snort from wherever you are). We caught them in the early hours of this morning. It was too late for their target but we got to them before tar and feathers. I’m not sure if many of us cared though, he got his daughter hooked on meth, she’s twelve years old. I don’t know if you’ve already found out the details but I’ll tell you anyway. The two graduates were Ian Marston and Theo Randall. They met while doing charity work in South London with kids in care, taking them on days out, building self esteem, mentoring etc. The people they killed had been accused of harming children in their care but still granted access. Family court documents are under certain protections which is why the connection wasn’t made sooner. Ian Marston’s father had access to tar as part of his flat roofing business. I’ll write it up for the blog as soon as I get home, do you have internet access? I’ve included a couple of newspaper cuttings too in case you’re interested.

I don’t understand it Sherlock. They were bright kids; both of them had firsts, job prospects, friends, family and their health. Such a god damn waste. 

About the reason behind why you sent Mycroft to get me involved in the case. I’m fine, no tremor, no limp, I’m perfectly healthy apart from the occasional hangover (Lestrade has an armour plated liver). I’m not going to complain about working the case, even if it was different without you; it’s been the best thing to happen since your ‘gift’, I loved it. I still can’t work out how you knew they’d use that hotel but I’m sure it’s painfully obvious. What I’m trying to tell you is that you’re not responsible for my well being. ~~It doesn’t matter how. I’m not depen~~ I’m trying to entertain myself. I’ve got a date with one of the sergeants who worked the case, Justine Keller, she seems really nice so don’t tell me that she’s prone to yeast infections or enjoys hardcore S &M or something. You’ll spoil the mystique. 

How’s the case developing? Mycroft’s redactions are probably making your trip sound much more interesting than it actually is, what did you smell like? Actually, don’t tell me, the truth won’t be as funny. Wish I’d been there to see even if I didn’t have to pull someone off you this time. I put some chocolate éclairs as your treat this time. Remember a man cannot live on jam alone. 

Farmers market is on tomorrow. Might have a walk around and see our old friend. 

John

 

~~~*~~~

**11th August 2011**

Dear Idiot,

I’ve made myself responsible so you can shut up about it because I know a hand tremor when I see one. I’ve enclosed your letter with my notes and the evidence circled if you still wish to waste my time and insult my intelligence with your pointless lies. Remember who I am. If you do insist on dating the dreariest woman in London then I fear you’ll be incapacitated by psychosomatic pain by a week on Tuesday without my intervention. Must I remind you that I, and possibly Mycroft, are the only two people aware of your particular needs and despite my absence I am still in a position to tend to them. I should also point out that you are also doing your best to tend to my needs by sending supplies and companionship. I rather gathered that is what friendship was all about but if I’m wrong do correct me and I’ll take the damn I give about your welfare somewhere else.

I can’t waste more time on you, I have to leave this safe house tonight. Again.

Sherlock

 

~~~*~~~

**14th August 2011**

The tremor stopped. 

I care about you too, Sherlock. 

John.

 

~~~*~~~

**16th August 2011**

John,

I need you to go see Molly and obtain the head of the homeless man she’s saving for me. I only need the scalp but it’ll stand up better if you make a smooth cut across his neck between C4 and C5 but you may prefer to do it differently. You can prop him up on the spiked device Mrs Hudson has for roasting chickens in an upright position, I lost our last one. 

Once you have him, shave his head and then I need you to make a template from acetate or silicone (see enclosed drawing) and smooth hydrogen peroxide cream over the template (the type used to bleach hair) and leave for three hours (don’t worry about burns to the scalp, this is intentional). Take photographs after the three hours, then every hour for the next five and daily after that. You can send them three days at a time, make sure to label them. 

Hope you are well, Sherlock

 

~~~*~~~

**20th August 2011**

Dear Demented Flatmate,

Are you kidding me? Seriously, you think you were asking me to air out your room a bit which I have done by the way. Seriously, are you kidding?

Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, I did what you asked, but I’m adding this to the tally of pints you owe me and at this point you might as well invest in a sodding brewery. I can only hope that this helps bring you back quicker because the fridge had only just started to smell right again after the feet. I borrowed Mrs Hudson’s chicken roaster and she wasn’t best pleased when she found what I’d used it for. I’ve replaced it but I think Steve might deck me if I run into him in the next few days. 

Here’s the first batch of photographs. I’m guessing your case involves people with discrete markings? I could alter the strength of the peroxide if you need me too, I used the strongest one I could find but Barts has plenty. Pretty template too, your design? Since Mycroft let me have it I’m guessing the symbol is made up or far enough removed from what you’re doing it’s pointless for me to research it. I liked it though. I wish I knew what you were doing, every story in the paper sounds like something you could be involved with. 

And yes, I’m well. In fact I’m going on my third date with Justine tonight. 

Obediently, John

 

~~~*~~~

**27th August 2011**

Dear John,

Your help has been invaluable. You can dispose of the head after cutting away the scar and preserving it for me. Molly can do this if you can’t but I’m sure you’re capable. She’s a pleasant girl. If she watched you perform the beheading then it’s a good sign she likes you. You should buy her a coffee as that is her social beverage of choice, latte preferably. Of course you seem to be persisting with that other woman; I’m bored just thinking about her. 

I have to [REDACTED] now. 

With thanks, Sherlock

 

~~~*~~~

**31st August 2011**

Sherlock,

Do you realise how much of a colossal arse you’re being? You don’t even know Justine. Meeting her once doesn’t count as ‘knowing’ her no matter how clever you think your deductions are so you can forget that argument. Getting to know someone takes time and effort. You have no idea. She’s intelligent, she’s got a degree in criminology and wants to be a detective and she’ll be a bloody good one too. She’s funny, interesting and beautiful; in fact she could actually do a lot better than an invalid like me. Everyone knows Molly hasn’t the slightest interest in me as she’s completely smitten with you of all people! Why would you even suggest her?

You’re being a selfish, arrogant cock. Come home so I can tell you to your face.

John

 

~~~*~~~

**REDACTIONS FOR AUGUST:**

Only the one, Sherlock's off to shave his head ;) (Don't worry, he's only mimicking the scars)


	4. SEPTEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the dates on this one.

**7th September 2011**

Dear John,

Feel better after your little rant? Yes, I’m sure she’s just lovely but I would wager a kidney that you still have more fun with me. Let me tell you how it’s going. First date drinks at the Fur and Feather, you ordered a bottle of wine because you wanted to seem sophisticated but you wouldn’t have paid more than £25 because you didn’t want to try too hard to impress her or look like a flash wanker. Still, it’s London, nothing’s cheap. You picked something European because you’re not a complete idiot, probably Italian, certainly not Spanish. You regaled her with some of your more humorous stories since coming back from Afghanistan but nothing of the war. You told her the minimum you could about your family but you learnt much more about hers. You kissed her at the end of the night and text her when you got home. She was flattered at the attention but then she’s always looking to be validated by older men, the independent woman act is just that even if she wants to believe otherwise. Father left when she was eleven, she’s been looking for a replacement ever since.

You called for a second date two days later though you planned on waiting three. You saw a film, something safe, generic, dull with some box office star that has mass appeal, I’d tell you which one but I don’t have access to any listings. You went out for dinner afterwards, Thai. She keeps asking you questions about your army life and you keep talking about me, about solving crimes and catching criminals, all the things you’re missing. Did she like the black shirt with the pin stripe? 

Third date, dinner. Again. Cosy, romantic, you’re nervous, she’s nervous. Boring. You went back to her flat though she would have invited you back after the cinema. You said all the right words, did all the right things and made sure she was satisfied. Nothing really to remember but you always tell yourself it gets better. It won’t. You didn’t stay over. You don’t feel safe sleeping next to someone you don’t trust completely. You also don’t like sleeping when you’re uneasy, you’re vulnerable to nightmares. I’ve seen them, I’ve stopped them before. 

So your ‘relationship’ goes on. Enjoy your trip to theatre? Or have you been to some social function together? A birthday? Yes, it sounds awfully exciting, how can you stand the constant peril? Does your heart pound when you see her or merely raise a smile? 

Also, you’re not an invalid; do not describe yourself as such again. 

Sherlock 

P.S. I’m having trouble sleeping, what do you recommend? No heavy pills, must be able to be alert at a moments notice.

 

~~~*~~~

**9th September 2011**

Dear John,

On reflection I have ~~perhaps~~ been harsh regarding your dating situation. I apologise for any offence I may have caused. I hope for our congenial friendship to continue despite my error. You are entitled to a life outside of myself and I fully support you in your romantic endeavours.

Sherlock

 

~~~*~~~

**12th September 2011**

Sherlock,

Try these valerian drops. Ten in a small amount of water. They taste foul but you’ll get used to them if it works. I’d write more but I think I’ll wait for a letter that is one solid redaction which probably explains exactly what your brother did/withheld/threatened to get you to write that note. You almost ripped through the paper with that last sentence. It arrived with your first letter; I actually read them the wrong way around which made things interesting. 

There’s no need to be jealous, no one could replace you but with you gone I think I’ve realised that I need to find excitement from other places as well. There are some things you can’t provide. Though tantrums you provide all too well. 

Things are good here, Molly’s seeing someone (yes, Mycroft has done a background check, apart from some criminal damage during some protests while he was at uni he’s fine), nice bloke but I only met him briefly when I was meeting Mike for lunch. Work is dull, I’m looking at other posts but nothing has caught my eye. It’s hard to find a job which would allow for me to bugger off at a moment’s notice to solve crimes. It’s getting colder, I had to light a fire the other night. We’re expecting a harsh winter, good for some decent murders. London needs you back. 

The rather bloody patient John 

P.S. I bought a new shirt; you left a leaking battery on the pinstripe. You owe me £30. You got other stuff wrong but I’m not telling you. Stew on it. I’m withholding sweets.

 

~~~*~~~

**12th September 2011**

Dear John,

I have no brother. 

I’m sure we’re now communicating across each other but I must write. I would have called but it’s not safe for me to use telecommunications. I tried to persuade the idiot who collects these letters to let me use his mobile but I believe he’s having some form of deviant love affair with his iPhone. Very possessive. I dread to think where it’s been, highly unsanitary. I could take a swab to confirm my suspicions but they way he cradles it with his hand and continually polishes it is evidence enough.

Mycroft, the slithering fiend, is continuing to interfere in our communications. He paid me a personal visit. Of course I did my best to work the situation to my advantage but the utter tripe he made me write was still sent. I trust that you’ll have seen through the transparent apology. Trust that if I ever feel the need to apologise to you it shall be sincere. Or at least you’ll be able to tell if I’m being sarcastic, that’s a much more likely scenario.

I’m craving mint imperials, the ones that go all crumbly at the end, not the ones that they have at the Chinese place. You remember I’m sure. 

Sherlock

 

~~~*~~~

**16th September 2011**

DOCTOR??? John Watson, 

Firstly, valerian John? I tell you I can’t sleep and you send me some hocus-pocus, eastern medicine, magic herb, voodoo nonsense? You might as well have as well sent me fairy dust for all the good this vile little tincture would do. It tastes like rotting fruit and shat upon grass. Are you punishing me? Are you punishing me because I’m gone? You obviously don’t take the plight of my insomnia very seriously but I’m sure this bottle of liquid I bought from a bearded man on the street will do the trick. My liver will forgive me but I doubt it’ll forgive you. I need sleep John! Sleep, sleep, sleep! My head itches terribly!

Now to the reason I’m sat here writing rather than slipping into the blissful oblivion ~~ion~~ of sleep that I so desperately require. I am not  jealous! How preposterous you’d suggest such a thing. I was going to bring you back an array of presents from my travels but now you’ll be lucky if I bring you diphtheria. For gods sake, why on earth would I be jealous of her, that boring, bland, insipid, ordinary Justine Keller? I’m so much better than her. Let me list them so your simple mind can understand.

1\. I’m more fun. We have fun, John. 

2\. I’ll get you the best cases. You think you’ll want to blog about some boring old duffer who knocked off his wife to shack up with his new younger and more limber girlfriend? Barely takes ten minutes to figure out what happened a bloody months to fill out the paper work. Where’s the excitement in that, where’s the chase?! You love the hunt John, I do too, that’s why you need the best cases like me. 

3\. I’m more interesting. I’m the world’s only consulting detective. She’ll be one of a bunch of incompetents and imbeciles. I’ve seen the world, I could keep you entertained until we’re old and grey. 

4\. I’m smarter. Goes without saying surely?

5\. You’re healthier with me. No tremor, no limp. Are you limping? I can help with that. I look after you. You look after me, even if I resist. 

6\. I have access to bodies and body parts. I’m a useful cadaver resource. Could Justine get you a set of kidneys within an hour of requiring them? I think not. I do it legally now too.

7\. I can play a multiple instruments. I’ve played my violin for you many times, even pieces I dislike but I know you prefer. You enjoy watching me play even when you think I haven’t noticed you looking.

8\. I know you. 

9\. I make you laugh.

10\. I’m taller and better looking. 

11\. I can cook. Kind of. When I try. I’d try for you.

12\. You trust me. And I you.

See! Why would you even bother with her? I could go on but I’m getting tired and it’s increasingly hard to control this damn pen. Everything’s a little blurry too. Might be sick.  
I want my mint imperials. 

Sherlock

 

~~~*~~~

**20th September 2011**

Sherlock,

I thought I might get another letter explaining the drunken, barely legible, letter you sent me but nothing has arrived. It was either that or Mycroft informing me that you’d died of alcohol poisoning in the night. I could smell the ethanol on the paper, you’re not fucking invincible!!! Don’t drink for a week at least, give your liver some respite, doctors orders. Since when do you drink let alone get stinkingly drunk? Don’t write to me like that again, I want to be able to believe what you say. Not that I don’t think you’ll lie to get what you want, but I like to stupidly think you wouldn’t lie to me. I don’t need to explain why I don’t like drunkenness, especially not in the people I care about. You’re a petulant drunk but then you’ve proven how petulant you can be recently.

I’m at a loss, Sherlock. I read your letter over and over. What do you want from me? All I want is a relationship. A normal, healthy, steady relationship and I might just have a shot at that with Justine. You’re my best friend Sherlock but I think you’d be pretty damn confused if I curled into bed with you at night or wanted to hold your hand. There’s stuff you can’t provide and I need the other stuff. I can be your friend and a boyfriend at the same time. I’m trying to be understanding but you’ve really got to stop this. 

As much as it pains me to admit it, I do need you. My leg has been playing up the last few days and I’ve been harassing Lestrade for a case to tell you about so I can at least be your hands and feet in London. He actually accused me of turning into you. I think he had a point when he suggested I take up an evening class and I complained that it was boring. I’ll get a case though, Greg will come through. I’ll write as soon as I get one. It’ll be good, we don’t usually fight like this for long, would be nice to solve a case together again. 

I’m watching BBC News as I write, there’s been an assassination attempt on the Japanese PM, looks like someone tried to gas the hotel he was staying at. Scary world we live in. Keep safe. 

John 

P.S. No mint imperials. Sent you a box of raisins. Consider it punishment.

 

~~~*~~~

**30th September 2011**

Sherlock,

I haven’t heard you. You usually write back by now. Can you send me something to let me know you’re ok? Mycroft says you’re fine and that you’re just busy but I think he’s lying. Fuck it, I know he’s lying. Anything Sherlock, I don’t care if you’re pissed off at me, just something, an envelope again, anything. I’ve sent you sweets. Mint imperials and those coconut mushroom things. 

I’m worried.

John


	5. OCTOBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's the final month. Again, keep an eye on the dates and I really hope you enjoy, this fic was so much fun to write.

**2nd October 2011**

Dear Justine,

Sherlock’s hurt, I don’t know how badly but he’s conscious. I’m taking the next flight to where he is. I’m sorry I can’t tell you where but it won’t be dangerous. I wish I could have said goodbye properly but your phone is switched off for court. I’m sorry I lost my temper last night, I shouldn’t have snapped like that. My leg was playing up and ~~I was still~~ there wasn’t anything either of us could do about it. I don’t have control over it, I should have explained what psychosomatic meant more clearly. It might be best if we leave things as they were last night while I’m away. I don’t know when I’ll be back but hopefully it won’t be too long, I’ve got a job to keep.

I didn’t cancel the reservations we had for tonight if you want to take a friend instead. 

Take care, 

John

 

~~~*~~~

**2nd October 2011**

Dear Mrs Hudson,

I know where he is, I’m flying out there now. He’s been injured but he’s in a decent hospital. Not sure when we’ll be back but Mycroft will keep the rent paid if we’re not back by the first of next month but I fully intend on bringing the silly bugger home as soon as I can. Thanks for the chat and the tea last night. I think, or hope, you’re right. 

Gratefully, John

P.S. Molly will be popping over to clear the fridge, would you mind lending her a key? Thanks.

 

~~~*~~~

**4th October 2011 (lunch time but you’re still nil by mouth)**

Dear Sherlock,

Welcome back to the land of the waking people and, with any luck, the coherent people too. I’ve changed your pain meds, they had you on far too many. You were off your face earlier but you were being extra friendly to me so every cloud. I tried to wake you before I left but you were out cold and snoring. If you didn’t piss off the staff so much they wouldn’t sedate you so heavily, I swear it’s borderline malpractice but from the harried look of the nurses you had it coming. 

I’ve popped back to your safe house to shower, eat and pick up a few of your things. Mycroft called, his people have mopped up those final leads at the port but the mastermind behind all this has disappeared much like you thought. Still, sounds like the JSE owes you a massive favour along with the world economy. Prefer it when you do restaurants’ favours, maybe you could solve something sushi related while we’re here, I’m craving some sashimi. Won’t eat anything fancy until you can.

I’ll be back by 3. 

John

 

~~~*~~~

J,

Wasn’t off face. I meant it.

S

 

~~~*~~~

(Mycroft, please refrain from reading this one, it contains no operationally sensitive information. It’s the least you can do for the mistake your men made which I should have fixed by the time you read this.)

**24th September 2011**

Dearest John,

I won’t tell a single lie or omit a single truth in this letter. For that reason it may be the last one I send. I’m completely sober and of sound mind. 

I want to give you everything. 

I can provide everything you want and I expect you can do the same in return. Of course it’s ridiculous to expect me to provide a traditional form of normality but that’s not what you’re looking for. I want to give you utter abnormality, instability, life threatening danger and excitement. I can give you the stability you seem to crave exactly where you need it: I’ll never leave you. We shall be a constant in each other’s lives. Everything else can change around us and make life interesting, the world our oyster. I’ll do my best not to drive you away either if you promise to do the same. The same can be said of dying but considering the number of times we’ve come close I think we’ve done well.

I wouldn’t be confused if you were to climb into my bed. I believe you belong there. I don’t want you to share your bed or your body with anyone but me. I would be monogamous as you would expect and deserve. I want to be the reason you never limp again and I think you could be the reason I won’t accidently kill myself before I’m forty.   
I should have seen it sooner, I don’t know why it’s taken all these thousands of miles and months upon months to realise that you make perfect sense to me. It’s been so obvious but I never anticipated requiring more than our previous arrangement. I don’t want you to be a friend to me and a partner to that woman; I want you to be both. I want to be both. The final faltering variable has altered and I’m inexorably in love with you. 

I’d like to embark on a romantic relationship with you in the hopes that you might also fall in love with me. Maybe we could

 

~~~*~~~

**(still) 4th October 2011. 4pm-ish**

Dear Asleep Again Sherlock,

I found your unfinished letter on the kitchen table. I’ve gone to make a call back home, it won’t take long. No need to hope that I’ll fall for you, I’ve been long gone a while now. I didn’t dare hope you were on the same (insane) page. I’m quite looking forward to a life of instability, danger and utter abnormality, right up my street. 

Love, John

P.S. I brought some clothes and toiletries for you, they’re in the bathroom but wait for me to help you, your stitches are still fragile. You didn’t have much stuff so I packed it up in your suitcase for now and put it under your bed. Mycroft’s people took all your files, even the hidden ones. Sorry.

P.P.S. I guess your declaration of undying adoration for me was sincere but I’m pretty sure the part about us raising bees and whelks is the definition of being off your face. Especially as you seemed to find the word ‘whelk’ hilarious. 

 

~~~*~~~

**6th October 2011**

Dear John,

Gone for MRI. 

Make up your mind by the time I get back. You’ve never had to make an easier decision. It barely needs a moment let alone a walk to mull it over. The case isn’t done. Stay.  
Sherlock

P.S. Note my lack of emotional blackmail despite the fact that I love you and would very much like you to join me. Couples often partake in joint hobbies and destroying a terrorist group intent on instigating war is much more fun than shopping for antiques or something equally tedious. 

 

~~~*~~~

Did extra tests. Lung damage, got to use this breather thing again, steroids. Short term. Two days max. 

Not allowed to talk while on this. They gave me this pad and pen. 

Stomach fine, no holes that shouldn’t be there. 

I’ll be fine, stop fretting and talk to me.

Staying?

Good. 

It was post script, doesn’t count.

Call Sarah?

You can get a new job. Mycroft will pay you for this. Handsomely. 

Lestrade have a case?

I can solve a case and convalesce simultaneously. 

Yes, I am quite brilliant, aren’t I?

That woman will get over you. You were never enough father material for her. 

Fine. JUSTINE. You weren’t well suited anyway.

You’re suited to me.

It turns out I’m possessive, no point trying to change me. 

I prefer to write long hand to you. I haven’t written in a while.

You look tired. Lay with me.

Keep doing that. Feels nice. 

You smell like Baker Street.

Keep talking.

Anything. I’ve missed your voice.

Tell her to piss off.

You’re far too polite, she was eavesdropping, no good reason to test my blood pressure right then.

Get back on the bed, I’m not done.

Please.

It’ll grow back unlike my spleen.

Two more days here, then new safe house, you can look after me until we’re ready to move.

Can’t write where we’ll go. My arch enemy is organising appropriate papers.

Arch enemy-in-law.

I missed you too.

Bored? 

 

~~~*~~~

**7th October 2011**

Dear Sherlock and John,

Congratulations on the news of your new relationship status. We must have dinner together at Mummy’s once this ghastly business is resolved. She will be eager to meet John as soon as possible and question him accordingly. Do not fear John, Mummy’s bark is far worse than her bite. You have my blessing, not that it will mean much to my dear sibling, but family approval is one less hassle for you both. Do take care of the good doctor, Sherlock.

With kind regards, Mycroft Holmes

 

~~~*~~~

**7th October 2011**

Dear John,

I am sending you this additional letter privately, I would prefer if it would remain between us for the time being. As you are all too aware I have a keen interest in my brother’s welfare and would be most upset if any emotional harm were to come to him. I expect quite readily for Sherlock to be injured physically, though never at your hand of course, but he has never sought a long term relationship before and this is of concern to me. I trust that you will treat the situation accordingly and see that his heart is well cared for. 

As before, welcome to the family. You’ve been good for Sherlock thus far, long may it continue. 

Sincerely, Mycroft Holmes

 

~~~*~~~

**9th October 2011**

Piss off, Mycroft.

SH

 

~~~*~~~

**15th October 2011**

To my lovely boys,

Steven and I are delighted to hear that you two have finally seen sense and become a proper couple. Now you get to enjoy each other in the biblical sense too! Molly popped by to clear out the fridge and filled me in on the gossip. She also brought round her new boyfriend, quite a hunky dish I might say! It will be a shame not to see Justine anymore but she really wasn’t right for you, John. She’ll find someone who’s the right fit, just like you’ve found yours. 

As soon as you return from your travels you must come for dinner, I’ll cook a roast (on my new John Lewis roasting stand). Do take care of each other wherever you are, I do worry. Remember the cornerstone to every relationship is communication and passion! I know you’ll have little trouble with the latter! Oh I am thrilled, you would hardly believe how John has moped since you left Sherlock but I’m sure you were twice as bad. 

If you see your brother Sherlock do thank him for allowing me to send this letter, I was frightfully insistent. I hope you’ll return safe and sound soon, it’s far too quiet without the two of you here. Try not to get into too much trouble.

All my love, Edna Hudson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this fic and that your imaginations could fill in John's half of the conservation (it's all in my head anyway). Oh, Sherlock's in Japan and spent most of his time in East Asia ;)


End file.
